


Sun Seeker

by Ameme (JingJohk)



Series: The Echo [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, FELL CLEAVE!, Fix it maybe, Gen, SPOILERS for literally everything in FFXIV, VENGEANCE a novel by nidhogg, epic slow burn because author cannot write romance well, multiple characters with the same names, protag has at least two people in her head
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:54:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27857133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JingJohk/pseuds/Ameme
Summary: Second installment of The Echo series.Ameme has so far survived her jaunt into a past she can't remember, but now she has to deal with a target placed on her back courtesy of Nidhogg and a strange new being in her head. What do they want? What has she done to deserve such attention? Warriors aren't meant for mind games! Why can't she just fell cleave stuff and be done with it?
Relationships: Haurchefant Greystone/Warrior of Light
Series: The Echo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1962745
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	Sun Seeker

**Author's Note:**

> Eeeey, miss me? I'm back again with a hopefully less surreal story to tell!

The issue with constantly agreeing to do things for people is that sometimes that led to encounters with individuals who had...interesting ideas of how to socialize.

Not that I knew much about socializing, of course. But at least I knew how to give out warning signs when I'd had enough, and most were inclined to listen. To my sorrow, there was one general class of Spoken that not only didn't understand warning signs, they seemed to take such signs as an invitation to charge blithely ahead.

All right. I'll not beat about the bush: I'm referring to any Miqo'te man under the age of thirty.

Specifically this one. The one currently breathing on my shoulder as he peeked over it to see what I was reading. It made me want to tie his tail into knots and glue his ears together.

I'd had encounters with Miqo'te men before. They may have been few and far between compared to their female counterparts, but they were numerous enough that I was familiar with their dispositions. The older ones I had no issue with, usually. The young men, though—well, let's just say there was a running joke about a pesticide that worked on rambunctious Miqo'te.

Where does one start? They tended to perch on tall objects so they could look down at anyone they spoke to, they had little concept of personal space, they were nosy if they were interested, and they had a really obnoxious tendency to be completely, confidently, obstinately wrong. I don't mean they're just confident, no. They just...tended to be wrong. It was worse if they were right, though. You would never hear the end of it.

And oh, if you were a single woman of any type, the problem was just magnified. Much as a particular subset of Roegadyn men might wish otherwise, Miqo'te men with a preference for the male gender were _extremely_ rare. In fact, they tended towards the opposite: every single one I've ever met seemed to have a burning, desperate need to advertise themselves as both fit and highly available to any woman who dared cross their paths. I honestly couldn't tell you if they were rare simply because few of them were born, or if at some point in their youths they had a penchant for getting themselves forcibly removed from this mortal coil by angry husbands or male relations.

Well. The issue I had with the particular young man invading my bubble at the moment really had more to do with the fact that he really, _really_ wanted to go on purely platonic adventures, preferably with me, but the way he expressed it was annoying. Extensively. As in 'getting in my way to make me work harder'. Fortunately for him, he had stopped just short of 'claiming credit for all my work'. Now he was here reading over my shoulder like we were _friends_. I tell you, these men had no respect for personal boundaries whether or not they were attracted to you.

“What,” I said when he let out a snort at what he was reading. I swear to Byregot, if he got snot on my clothes I would—

“I happen to have a very good book on trade brokering if you would like to read it,” he said, his fluffy ginger tail twitching back and forth. “Not to disparage your choice of literature, but this author is well known for...oh...having enough hot air to power an airship.”

Sounded familiar. “Isn't that every academic?” I asked.

G'raha Tia—Tia being a title, he had informed me recently, as though I cared—turned his strange bi-colored gaze on me, his mouth turned upward in a tiny smile. One eye was deep blue-green, the other was unnaturally bright red. Thanks to his overgrown bangs (artfully tousled most days), the red one was usually hidden. I hadn't asked about it. Didn't care. Really wished he could use some other soap because his current selection had a cloying honey scent. “It may seem like that from where a typical non-scholar stands, but rest assured we have our own way of assessing quality of work,” he said. “Now, I happen to know you've been working with the kobolds in La Noscea and dare to presume that is what prompted this particular selection.”

I really wanted to roll my eyes, but didn't. The self-restraint required for this was enormous, let me tell you. “I try to stay informed on the topic,” I said. “This was suggested by Count Edmont de Fortemps.”

“Edmont...of Ishgard? House Fortemps? Oh, fascinating. You certainly get around if you managed to have a correspondence with the lord of a high house!” G'raha's ears flicked back and forth even as his tail wrapped around one leg. Everything about him was an open book and it was fairly annoying because even when he wasn't talking, he couldn't shut up. “Still, I'm not surprised he would recommend this particular author. He's hardly a scholar. Well? Would you like to borrow my book?”

_No._

“May as well. Not like it would make any more sense,” I said.

His tail quit twitching. “Hmm? You don't understand the concepts? Or just the academic language?”

I shot him a sour look. “Theory is all well and good, but I only have practical experience with kobolds, who wouldn't know good business if it came up and bit them on the arse.”

“That's too bad,” G'raha said, and fell silent. I turned my face back to the book, but all my attention was on the tip of his tail. When it began to twitch, I braced myself and—

Yep. I saw his fingers sneak into view just in time to slam the book shut on his hand. “Gwah!” he said, but kept trying to snatch it from me anyway because he was a total pest when he was bored. I elbowed him to get him to let go and almost knocked both of us off the scaffolding in the process.

“Oi, ye little shite!” I growled as he laughed. “Go play with someone else!”

If he'd had his way, this would've devolved into a wrestling match. Since my pointy elbow in his stomach was a successful deterrent for once, he quit and rolled onto his back. “Ahh, if only there were more to do than wait!” he lamented. “I had not thought I would need twice the number of books that I brought.”

“There are always engineering manuals,” I said.

“Pah! Even you know that's beyond my ken,” he replied. “History, archaeology, ah...that is what brings me joy.”

Great. I didn't care.

“Such a pity Rowena refuses to lend me any of her tomestones to study without trying to enslave me with a contract,” he mused. “No doubt that is why the Students of Baldesion have specific rules about her.”

“Meh. Rowena.” I scowled down at the Ironworks crew wrestling with glowing bits of rock below us. “Racist _and_ opportunist.”

G'raha flipped over, eyes wide. “I agree!” he said. “I overheard one of her 'employees' say that she was whining about wanting her own catboy. Just imagine being under the thumb of someone who calls Miqo'te _that!_ ”

Catboy and catgirl were astoundingly rude terms for Miqo'te. Not that I was really surprised Rowena would say that, come to think...

Much aggrieved, G'raha continued: “I am neither a boy nor a cat! That anyone would consider me a mere plaything is absolutely vile. I've mine own mind and soul. Mine own will!”

“Yeah, and your mind tells you it's a good idea to wrestle with me constantly,” I muttered.

“Why not? I find it highly enjoyable,” he said. “In any case, the end result is that both of us are forced to wait while others do what we cannot.” He sighed and gazed wistfully at me. “Are you sure there are no adventures we can go on in the area?”

“There probably are, but what good would a historian do?”

“I'll have you know I am quite skilled physically!” he protested.

“Uh huh. Gonna throw some books at the bad guys.”

G'raha flailed his arms a bit. “I'm not an unaccomplished archer!”

“I don't think books work very well as arrows,” I said, feigning ignorance.

G'raha bounced to his feet and mock-scowled ilms from my face. “You _dare_ insult me,” he said, a grin in his voice. “I challenge you to a race!”

I groaned and shoved him away. “Again? I'm not finding more dirt.”

“Not dirt! To find the next adventure! One both of us can go on.”

_Both_ of us? Hmm. I sized him up.

His grin only widened. “Loser buys lunch!”

“Do you even have any gil?” I asked, because I hadn't seen him pay for a damn thing since meeting him. He patted one of his belt bags and looked smug. “Okay, fine. But I warn you, if you sign me up to do all the heavy lifting...”

“Where is the fun in that? Though admittedly I do love seeing you at work.”

I _glared_.

“...ahem. Let us away to Revenant's Toll! Our race will begin at the gate!”

Although I suspected ignoring him would be the most sensible course of action, I couldn't resist the idea of doing anything besides reading about trade theory. I tucked the book in my bag and allowed G'raha to lead the way, because walking in front of a young tia was just asking to have your hair pulled or spend the whole time listening to him gripe about having to follow someone. Admittedly, in G'raha's case I was more likely to lose track of him the instant something shiny caught his eye—in the interests of research, of course.

Revenant's Toll hummed with its usual blustery good cheer. Business was booming, it seemed. Thanks to the hard-working Domans brought in by Alphinaud, the damage from Nidhogg's attack was almost completely gone and the place bustled with activity. We paused just inside the gate, G'raha bouncing eagerly on his toes while I surreptitiously scanned the area for potential needy clients.

At this point it would occur to the typical adventurer that the likelihood of getting a paying task from another adventurer was very slim. After all, we were in the business of doing odd jobs for non-adventurers. Anyone not in my group was competition for coin. That, however, only applied if we were seeking typical work.

“Something both of us can do,” I muttered. “As a team? Yes? Don't care about money?”

“Not at all,” G'raha said. “The prize is in the adventure itself, you know!”

Spoken like someone who didn't do it for a living. “Meet up in half a bell, I suppose?”

G'raha's ears flicked. “This is a race, my friend!” he said. “I will find you when I finish first.”

Oooo, I was gonna kick his scrawny little arse so hard—ahem. I nodded in agreement and he took off like a shot. His first target just happened to be a rather irascible Miqo'te woman. I watched with a raised eyebrow as he dashed up to her, made a polite query, and had to dodge a swipe to the face. Clearly deeming that a loss, he charged around a building and out of sight, elbows flapping in the breeze.

I supposed he would show up later, smug as an Ul'dahn merchant with a freshly won fortune, so I shrugged and wandered in the opposite direction. Regardless of who won, lunch would be cheap.

Much to my consternation, my usual luck quickly came into play as I headed to the aetheryte plaza. Just past the crystal, a young and fit Duskwight man was in the midst of an argument with a Doman girl-child about yea-high to a chigoe's knee. The girl stood on a crate to improve her chances of getting within a malm of the man's face, not that it made any difference because when I discovered them, he was shaking his head furiously.

“I tell you, I've no reason to threaten a child!” he said in a deep, gravelly sort of voice that sounded rather familiar.

“It's only practice, Mr Foulques!” the girl said, her tone wheedling. “Please? PLEEEEEASE???”

“No!” said the unfortunate Mr Foulques. “Imagine if someone saw me threatening you? The Bringer of Light herself could show up and cut me down on the spot!” He waved a hand vaguely in my direction. The girl looked where he pointed and blinked. Foulques noticed the look and followed it. He also blinked.

“Hi,” I said.

With a mighty thump, he slammed his back against the wall and groaned. “Of course,” he said. “Of _course!_ As if summoned, she appears...” He sank to the ground, utterly defeated.

Wow. As far as I knew, I hadn't done anything to this guy. “It was a coincidence,” I said. “So what's going on? What's this about threatening?”

“Oh, I'm trying to learn how to be intimidating,” said the girl, dark eyes wide with innocence. “Mr Foulques is really good at it, so I've been asking him!”

“No one in their right mind would be able to seriously threaten someone your age,” I said. “Obviously you need to follow him around and see him threaten people who deserve it.”

“Not helping,” growled Foulques. “Why are you here, anyway? I thought you were in Coerthas.”

Did he know me? Wait...Duskwight...lancer...gravelly voice...aha!

“Why are _you_ here?” I replied. “You were running around the Shroud with a hole in your side at last check.”

“I quit the Shroud and became an adventurer with Edda,” said Foulques. “Well? Out with it.”

“Rude,” I said. “Revenant's Toll is where adventurers congregate. I'm an adventurer. Funny that you joined Edda, though. How's she doing?”

He regarded me suspiciously. Or sourly. It was hard to tell, given his disposition. “As well as one would expect,” he said. “Finally quit talking about that blasted ex-fiancé of hers so much. We've been bouncing between here and Coerthas—weather's a beast up there so we come to Mor Dhona to thaw out.”

Something tugged my sleeve. I glanced down to find the girl gazing at me attentively. “If you're an adventurer, does that mean you were on an adventure before you got here?” she asked.

“Yup. I'm with someone else at the moment. We're looking for another adventure.” I glanced around, hoping for something, anything—

“You have to register with the adventurer's guild here,” the girl said, suddenly stern. I eyed her in mild confusion. The Toll had an adventurer's guild, but even if I hadn't already registered, it wasn't technically required.

Foulques sighed heavily. “That's for children,” he said. “There's a real one here, you know, not one for playing.”

“We're not playing! We're fully functional and taking jobs!” The girl put her hands on her hips and glared. “Mr Slafborn had us look for treasure the other day, even! So we're a real guild with real clients!!”

This honestly seemed fun. “Oh, I'm sorry,” I said. “How do I register?”

The girl, who was actually quite nimble, pivoted gracefully to beam at me. “You can register with me! My name is Koharu and I'm the secretary!” She pulled out a rather beaten up second-hand notebook and presented it to me along with a nub of a writing stick. “Just write your name down and you'll be a member of the Doman Adventurer's Guild! We named it that because the founders—that's me and my friends—are all from Doma.”

“You're not taking this seriously, are you?” Foulques asked.

I shot him a grin and scratched my name out in the notebook. Koharu seized it excitedly and carefully read my name out loud. “Ah-may-may Ah-may,” she said. “Eorzean letters are hard—you know, your name is the same as the Bringer of Light's! Miss Tataru told me about her.”

“It's a common name,” I said gravely. “I'm often mistaken for her. Alas, alack. So are there any jobs available?”

“Ummm...not right now? But I bet if we ask around we can find something!” she said. “Mr Talan always wants us to fetch things for him, but that's boring. Mr Slafborn always has fun jobs, though! We can ask him!”

It seemed I would have to look elsewhere for an adventure. Slafborn was an easy-going man but the jobs he gave the girl and her friends were most likely child-friendly. Now, if an adult walked up to him...

“Begging your pardon, but are you perchance Ameme Ame?” asked a new, deep voice with a rather strong Ishgardian accent. We turned as one, quite startled by the sudden appearance of the tall Elezen man. He sported a haubergeon typical of Temple knights, those soldiers not beholden to any one House but instead to the Holy See itself. My eyes darted from the long, carefully swept fringe of dirty blond hair on his forehead to the single green ear clasp. His expression was rather stern, but neutral, much like every other knight I had ever met. The only strange thing was the enormous greatsword on his back.

“Wow!” said Koharu, her eyes wide. “Are you a knight from Ishgard?”

The man, who had been studying me in return, switched his attention to her and smiled, his features softening a bit. “Well-spotted, young lady,” he said. “Forgive me for interrupting your conversation. I was hoping to find the much esteemed Bringer of Light.”

“Oh, Miss Ameme just has the same name,” Koharu said. “The Bringer of Light is too busy to go on regular adventures! At least, that's what everyone always says.”

Foulques pressed his lips together, restraining a laugh. The man glanced at me. I winked at him and said, “I don't know about that, but I imagine she's not overly fond of being famous.”

“I see,” said the man, cottoning onto my meaning immediately. “In that case, mayhap you can assist me instead.”

I held up a finger. “Just a moment,” I said. “I've got a companion who ran off to look for potential clients. I need to retrieve him first.”

Koharu bounced. “Oh! Let me, I'm really fast,” she said. “He can register, too! We'll have _two_ adult members!”

I grinned. “Sounds like a plan. He's a baby-faced Miqo'te man, red hair, fluffy tail, red shirt, impossible to miss. Probably decided to climb on top of something somewhere.”

Koharu beamed. “Roger!” she said, and vanished in a puff of smoke. Those Domans, even the kids were shinobi...

“Right,” said Foulques. “I'll be going now—”

I snagged a finger in his armor, making him freeze. “Oh no, you don't,” I said. “You should find Edda so we can be a proper light party.”

He scowled so blackly it was a wonder the sky managed to remain sunny. “I thought the Bringer of Light worked alone,” he said.

“Wrong.” I glanced at the man. “So what's up? Why were you looking for me?”

The man cocked his head to the side. “Was I, now? I was under the impression you were a simple adventurer who has volunteered to assist a knight in his task,” he said, his face going blank. “How fortunate that I should stumble into a meeting of the...Revenant's Toll adventurer's guild, was it?”

“Doman Adventurer's Guild, run by children,” Foulques said. “Nothing to do with the official one here.”

“I see,” said the man. “Regardless, this suits my purpose, such as it is. If you would do as bidden and retrieve your other companion so I may give you your task...”

Foulques and I eyed him rather suspiciously, likely for the same reason. What was this knight up to? I hadn't really dealt with the Temple knights before, considering they held themselves somewhat apart from House knights.

The man, noting our hesitation, pulled out a jingling bag from a pocket. “I am in fact prepared to reward you for a job well done,” he said.

My suspicions only grew, but Foulques seemed to find it adequate motivation, no doubt due to the general perception that Ishgardians were generous with their coin the few times they sought adventurers. Suddenly business-like, he strode away in search of our soon-to-be healer.

“So,” I said when we were alone. You know. Relatively isolated, away from prying eyes and ears, where he could tell me what he wanted with me.

“I think it best to wait for your erstwhile companions so I needn't repeat myself,” said the man.

So he was gonna be like that, huh. Well, it wasn't like I didn't have time to kill. I seated myself on the curb and waited silently. Whoever this guy was, he was definitely well-trained. Barely moved a muscle except to breathe, not even any fidgeting to find a good idling position. He must have been about as tall as Haurchefant, by my reckoning. The greatsword had me really curious. Something about it...

Koharu and G'raha burst into view, sprinting like their lives depended on it. G'raha's big grin gave away that it was just a game, as well as the way he lagged behind the Doman girl despite having longer legs. Koharu whizzed past us and danced with mad glee. “I won! I won! Now you have to sign up!” she crowed as G'raha made a show of staggering to the imaginary finish line.

“Oh! I concede,” he groaned artistically, straightening. “Very well, young lady! Sign me up.” He noted our potential client and pouted at me. “And so it seems at the same time I have lost out to you, Ameme. I do hope you enjoy beet sandwiches, as that's all I can currently afford.”

I grimaced. “I'd rather eat a hippogriff,” I said.

He laughed. “I jest! I'll treat you to something tastier. So is this—ah, of course.” He took the writing stick and notebook Koharu shoved under his nose and scrawled his name.

“Thank you!” Koharu said, and drew herself up officiously. “A-hem! Welcome to the Doman Adventurer's Guild! Rules are: be nice to other adventurers, defend Revenant's Toll, and never-ever-ever EVER help the Imperials. You have to swear!”

“Damn,” I said.

Koharu wrinkled her nose at me. “Not swear-swear! Swear on...um...” She rotated on the spot. “Hmm...that!” She pointed.

“The Crystal Tower?” G'raha asked. “That's an Allagan relic, you know.”

“I know! But it glows blue at night like the Mother Crystal,” said Koharu. “So swear to abide by the rules of the Doman Adventurer's Guild on the tower!”

G'raha and I exchanged glances and nodded. “I swear by the light of the Crystal tower to abide by the rules of the Doman Adventurer's Guild,” G'raha said, laying his hand across his heart.

“Aye, what he said,” I added. “Except for being nice to other adventurers.”

Koharu and G'raha turned on me as one, protesting, “Ameme!”

“What? You two haven't ever met 'em in the field. Some of them deserve a good smack across the mouth. I'll be nice to 'em in the Toll but that's it.”

Koharu made a variety of creative faces at me, but when I remained unmoved, she gave up. “Okay, fine! Where did Mr Foulques go?”

I shrugged. But speak of the very devil, Foulques that moment reappeared with a familiar Hyuran conjurer in tow. Edda, looking much healthier and happier than last I'd seen her, had lost her hat but now wore halfway decent robes that were only a little dirty. She seemed to have been out gathering herbs, based on the basket.

“Ameme!” she cried, dumping her basket in Foulques' arms so she could tackle me where I sat.

“Oof!” I went down in a heap, not exactly expecting someone to invade my personal space quite so enthusiastically. She relented after I made a pathetic wheezing plea for mercy.

“I'm so glad to see you!” she said. “Are you well? No wounds? I thought you were in Coerthas! Did you know I found Foulques again after we saved him from the deepcroft? Of course you knew, you sent him to find me! I bet he didn't tell you that I was treated for an old injury and now I can keep up! Did you need a healer? I've gotten better, you know!”

I didn't think she breathed at all during her excited monologue. I said, “Nice to see you too, Edda. Wanna go on an adventure?”

She beamed. “I'd love to! Oh, but Foulques—he's a lancer, quite a good lancer, he would have to come as well—”

“No, I don't,” Foulques said.

Edda went from happy to confused. “You don't? But you always...?”

“He's coming, too,” I said. “You two haven't met G'raha, have you? Well, here he is.” I nodded to G'raha, who puffed up and introduced himself with typical aplomb. Foulques, finally noting the Miqo'te in our midst, went on full alert. This was easy to notice, because when Foulques was on full alert, he loomed over his chosen victim and looked down his nose at them. G'raha, who was positively tiny for a Miqo'te man and quite used to others being far taller, did not appear to care.

Edda, meanwhile, was oblivious. “A Sharlayan scholar,” she repeated, looking awed. “That's...I've never thought about it. The tower, I mean. It's swimming in aether and I'd heard it was from Allag, but...are you going to open it?”

“Mayhap,” said G'raha. “We still have to get through the wards, of course.” He looked up at Foulques, his whole face innocently inquisitive.

Edda noticed Foulques looming and swatted his arm. “Quit that!” she said. “This is Ameme's _friend_.”

“And? What difference does that make?” Foulques demanded.

“You don't have to try to intimidate every man we meet,” she said. “He hasn't _done_ anything.”

G'raha coughed politely. “If that is your concern, rest assured I have no interest in anyone that way,” he said. Foulques let out a disbelieving snort, but G'raha ignored him in favor of the knight, who had silently watched the proceedings with a face like stone. “You are our client, I presume?”

The knight nodded. “Indeed. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Zephirin de Valhourdin of the Temple Knights of the Holy See of Ishgard. I am come to the Toll to seek the assistance of Ameme Ame in rousting out a member of the Dravanian Horde that has taken up residence in the nearby peaks.”

Foulques and Edda listened with their mouths slightly ajar. G'raha practically vibrated with interest. Koharu, the tip of her tongue poking out of her mouth, scribbled furiously in her tiny notebook. What little I could see of it read, “Zeferen Duvalorden,” which was a truly valiant attempt at spelling an Ishgardian name by someone from the other side of the world.

“I'm surprised Ishgard would seek me out specifically for such a task,” I said. “Don't the knights of Ishgard prefer to keep all the dragon-slaying to themselves?”

Zephirin dipped his chin in acknowledgment. “In the normal course of things, yes,” he said. “However, in this case, the dragon is outside of our jurisdiction. It would be in your best interests to slay it quickly, for it has settled quite close. I suspect it means to keep an eye on the Toll for the dread Nidhogg.”

My lower eyelid twitched at the mention of Nidhogg. That oversized rotten-breathed lizard—

“This is really big,” Koharu announced gravely. “Nidhogg's dragons sat on the market a few moons ago. It took the whole Toll to fight them all off! The adults made us hide the whole time so I didn't see it.” She sounded almost disappointed at that.

Much to my surprise, Zephirin dropped to one knee to look Koharu in the eye and, very kindly, said, “You are a brave one, child, and that shall serve you well in life. The adults around you will no doubt do an excellent job preparing you to take on such foes, but until then, they will protect you and help you grow.”

Koharu pouted and scuffed the heel of one foot a bit. “I guess,” she said. “I know they're doing their best. I still want to see a dragon one day! And maybe see Miss Ameme fight one!”

Zephirin laughed and patted her head. His hand dwarfed her wee skull easily. “Soon, mayhap,” he said, standing up with the grace Elezen knights always seemed to have despite their gangly bodies. “I look forward to hearing of your legendary exploits when you're a grown-up.”

At this, Koharu cheered up. “You'll hear all about me! Koharu, mighty revolutionary of Doma!”

Zephirin nodded. “A promise, then,” he said, and turned to us. “That is all the information I have at the moment. Will you take on this task?”

“Of course!” G'raha said before I could ask any questions, like how big this dragon was and did it breathe fire and just how deep in the mountains was it. “We can hardly leave the Toll open to attack! 'Tis our duty as adventurers to slay the beast for the good of the people! Are you with me, my friends?” He swept both arms wide, his tone shifting from eager to grandiose.

“No,” said Foulques flatly.

“A dragon...oh, are you sure we can handle it?” Edda asked, eyes wide. “I—I've never—the largest things we've ever gone for are, um, Foulques, what's the largest...?”

“Diremites,” said Foulques.

G'raha's ears drooped at the lack of enthusiasm from that quarter. His gaze darted hopefully in my direction.

“Aye,” I said. “It'll be fine. I was gonna ask how big it was, though.”

“Reports say it appears to be a type of biast, though it's rather larger than average,” said Zephirin. He flicked a glance at Foulques and Edda and added, “Only those fully committed should come.”

Foulques tched and glowered at the ground. Edda straightened her back and tried to look firm. “If Ameme says it's going to be all right, it will be all right,” she said.

“Wh—Edda! It's a blasted dragon!” Foulques said. “Your combat healing is still slower than a drugged morbol.”

She lifted her chin. “Then I guess you'll have to come with me to make sure I don't trip and fall into a fireball,” she said. Foulques spluttered.

“Oi, the only one getting fireballs to the face will be me,” I said. “Tank privilege. All right, Ser Zephirin. Lead the way.”

Foulques continued to grumble—something about having yet to meet a tank who could do their job—while Zephirin gave us a snooty bow and led us out of Revenant's Toll. Koharu watched us go with wide eyes, like a puppy thoroughly convinced its owners would never return but still holding out hope for one last glimpse.

_That probably happened to her back in Doma, watching people leave only to never have them return_ , I thought soberly to myself, though I did not turn to give her a reassuring glance. As my dad always said, only those uncertain of the future looked back. Of course, he may have picked that up from one of his romance novels...

“Did you know that this area was once home to a great many inns and the like?” G'raha informed all and sundry, though mostly Edda since she appeared interested. “A most ill fortune befell them upon the Battle of Silvertear Skies twenty years ago, when Midgardsormr's brood felled Garlean ships in great numbers. The ships crushed many of the structures, never mind the great aetheric surge that covered the land itself with crystal.”

Edda nodded. “And Midgardsormr's body is in the lake, wrapped around the Agrius,” she said. “I was told the Crystal Tower appeared after the Calamity...?”

G'raha's ears flicked with excitement at his favorite subject. “Indeed! When the survivors stumbled through the wreckage, what did they behold as they raised their eyes to the heavens but the tower!” And off he went, telling Edda every fact he knew about the damn thing. I would have zoned out completely, but the latest addition to the party going on in my head snorted.

_What?_ I asked.

Hades, for lack of a better description, rolled himself around in my skull a bit. That sounds unpleasant, but to be honest it was more akin to having a very large panther shift to look at you.

_Nothing_ , he said, _save for the fact that I now have an irresistible urge to pat the boy on the head and call him 'little one' when I certainly felt nothing of the sort for him before._

I supposed that meant Hades knew G'raha somehow. Curious. I looked at Zephirin hiking up ahead and noticed his long ears twitching, a sure sign of interest.

_And that one is certainly up to something, though I'm sure you've realized that_ , Hades added.

The one nice thing about Hades was that he wasn't in my thoughts the way Fray had been. Whether that was out of respect for my privacy or simply something he wasn't able to do, I had no idea. Appreciated it all the same, though.

_He does seem to be a knight_ , I replied. _I wonder if he's higher up in the ranks. Heavens' Ward? Although I don't see why one of those would be sent away from the archbishop's side. Haurchefant said they're meant to protect him._

_They're quite capable of moving independently, if I recall correctly. More importantly, you ought to find out what he's testing you for. Personally escorting a motley group of adventurers to kill a dragon? Frankly, I'm suspicious._

_Me, too_ , I thought.

The mountains surrounding Mor Dhona weren't terribly tall, but they were rugged and numerous. Zephirin had us boulder-hopping several times, and at one point we had to stop and tie Edda to Foulques's back because she simply could not manage some of the jumps. Foulques didn't complain, although Edda's face was longer than a hard day's work even after he'd set her down. Personally, my favorite part was having to grab the back of G'raha's pants before he could fall off an unstable boulder. Nothing like a mad, uncomfortable scramble to avoid certain injury to get the blood pumping, right?

“Here,” Zephirin said at last as we reached an area that was almost flat. Foulques leaned on a massive boulder with a sigh and Edda collapsed next to him. G'raha, blessed with the energy all men seemed to have in their twenties, scaled the highest rock and examined the surrounding peaks with his fancy aether goggles that all Students of Baldesion had.

I considered the place. The only signs of dragons were a few withered and blackened plants, like grass sitting too close to a bonfire. When I turned back the way we had come, I noticed that this spot had a great view of the Toll. Perfect for spying on it, actually.

The realization that an ancient wyrm hellsbent on revenge was specifically sending draconic spies to keep an eye on _me_ was not a comfortable one. Not a surprise, but definitely not comfortable, either.

“It seems my guess was correct,” Zephirin murmured, noting the view as well. “For whatever reason, Nidhogg regards you as his most dangerous foe, one that must be treated with great caution.” He turned to me, gaze keen. “Tell me, Ameme Ame. What are you?”

“Just an adventurer,” I said with a shrug. “Is your dragon nearby?”

“Near enough that we must tread warily,” he said. He glanced at the other three. “Hm. A brief break, mayhap, before we move in.”

Edda, still thoroughly winded, looked relieved at that. Foulques scowled, though given the darkness of his cheeks, he too was having trouble with the altitude. G'raha was only a bit flushed, but his ears were pricked high. Numerous expeditions into the foothills had acclimated both of us for this trip already.

“I can do some preliminary scouting while we wait,” G'raha announced. “I shall return anon!” Off he scampered, his tail disappearing over a rock before Edda could wheeze out a cautionary word.

“Good riddance,” said Foulques, earning himself an Edda-applied elbow to the shin. “What?”

“You're so ridiculous!” she said. “He's sweet.”

“He talks too damn much,” Foulques grumbled. “Who bloody cares about the ancient Alliens, or Agartians, or whatever they were called?”

“Allagans, and he's a scholar! That's what he studies. Why would he study something he's not interested in? Anyway, it sounds like they need help. Maybe we should go over to the Find after this and see if there are jobs we can do.”

Foulques was not pleased by this suggestion. “What, and be talked down to the entire time we're there? Lectured about this or that?”

“Like that doesn't happen everywhere,” I said as Edda spluttered. “They pay well, if nothing else. Now if you want to do something worthwhile for little pay, talk to the Ironworks crew. They'll work you into the ground but you'll be proud of what you make.”

Foulques thumped his shoulders against the boulder and exhaled noisily at the sky to show me what he thought about that. “So what are the odds your red-headed friend will get eaten by our target?” he asked.

“About one in three that he'll wake it up and come running here with a giant biast on his tail,” I said. “Not eaten, though. He's too fast for that.”

“I wondered,” said Zephirin. There was a distant roar as he spoke. “That would be him now, I suppose.”

I smiled. “Good. Makes it a bit faster.”

G'raha arrived in short order, face cherry-red from his flight but very smug as he popped into view. “I've brought a gift!” he announced, posing grandly atop yet another boulder. Then he leapt impressively, only to eat dirt when his legs buckled under him upon landing. “Oof!”

I hauled him to his feet and readied my axe as his pursuer vaulted over the boulder and landed with somewhat more grace before us. “You!” said the dragon, which was less like a biast and more like a miniature version of Tioman with no wings. “Bringer of Light...so, you have found me.” It turned its horse-like head to study us with one eye. “And you bring with you a vile son of Ishgard as well,” it spat. “It isn't enough that you threaten to obstruct the justice my sire seeks! No, you take up arms with Ishgardians as well!”

I wasn't terribly surprised it spoke to me, but its observation of Zephirin's presence piqued my interest. “Why does Nidhogg hate Ishgard so?” I asked.

“Because they are kinslayers! Betrayers! Liars!” it said. “Greedy, despicable creatures who laid low my sire's consort and feasted on her flesh to gain her power!”

“'Ware the wyrm's lies,” Zephirin growled. He had his massive greatsword out now, ready to attack. “They whisper only poison and will turn on you in a heartbeat.”

The dragon arched its skinny neck and snarled. “It does not matter what you believe!” it shrieked. “If you would stop my sire's justice, then I cannot allow you to live!” Thus decided, it lunged for me, jaws agape.

Edda shrieked and hurled a potion of some sort. The green vial soared through the air and landed neatly on the dragon's tongue, where it exploded in a fine mist of who knows what. A moment later, one of G'raha's arrows struck it in the lower jaw. Foulques, Zephirin, and I converged on it.

The dragon, outnumbered, fell quickly and said no more beyond hissing curses, until Zephirin's greatsword parted its head from its neck. Edda patched up the various scrapes everyone received, and we made our way back to Revenant's Toll with a dragon's head in tow. The return journey was silent, in part due to the physical toll but also due to the non-Ishgardians pondering the dragon's words. It was only when we were nearly there that Edda said, “Ser Zephirin? What truly caused Nidhogg to hate Ishgard?”

Zephirin, who had been staring grimly ahead the entire time, twisted to gaze at the dragon's head tied to his waist. “Think little of its words,” he said. “It only meant to give you enough pause for it to kill you. The story is somewhat lengthy to tell, so allow me to summarize: Nidhogg desires vengeance for his defeat at the hands of King Thordan and his Knights Twelve after he attacked my people for daring to build Ishgard, though King Thordan fell in the process. The first Azure Dragoon, Prince Haldrath, tore out the wyrm's eye to avenge his father's death. Since then, he has ever been determined to destroy us. For a thousand years, he has never wavered in his quest...until now.”

“And so, the Holy See turns its attention to the Bringer of Light, wondering what this means for their war,” G'raha murmured. “Is that not so, Ser Zephirin?”

“Quite,” said Zephirin. “Indeed, 'tis a mystery that must remain for now. I've a feeling we'll only get a proper answer by asking Nidhogg himself.” He shot me another one of his keen looks, searching for the truth in my face. “That is, if the Bringer of Light herself truly does not know, as she claims.”

“Oi,” I said. “I'm serious, I have no idea.” For good measure, I tried giving him a slight pout the way Tataru usually did when dealing with unwanted visitors convinced she knew more than she was saying.

Zephirin made a noncommittal noise, not at all convinced, but said, “Regardless, any enemy of Nidhogg is a friend of Ishgard.” He nodded to the gate, where a tiny figure was dancing excitedly. “It seems we have a welcoming committee.”

Koharu was so pleased to see us back safe and sound that she was almost in tears. That and it was two bells past her bedtime and she was very sleepy, it seemed. She ran to hug Edda enthusiastically, and even managed to embrace Foulques' knee before he grumped at her. “You're back!” she kept saying over and over. “Is that the dragon? Wow, its head is as big as me!”

“I shall take this back to Ishgard to be identified,” Zephirin said. “No doubt Nidhogg sensed its demise. In addition, the Azure Dragoon shall need to be consulted regarding the Horde's movements in the area. I shall be in touch with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn regarding the Holy See's decision, but it is my hope that the Toll and Ishgard may be allies when all is said and done.”

G'raha's tail flicked. “Very good,” he said. “I take it that you are no ordinary knight, Ser Zephirin?”

Zephirin paused, turning over possible answers in his mind. “Perhaps,” he said at last. “Or perhaps not. Ah, before I forget...” He pulled out the heavy bag he'd tempted us with in the beginning and passed it to me. “Your reward, good adventurers. May Halone bless you in your travels. I'll not readily forget the assistance you have rendered this day.” He bowed, gathered up the dragon head, and teleported away to Ishgard, taking the smell of death with him.

I stared at the crusty blob of bloodied dirt left behind. “Well, that was interesting,” I said.

“ _Too_ interesting,” Foulques said. “I'm never taking another dragon-slaying job again. Are we divvying up the reward or not?”

“Be patient, Foulques!” Edda chided.

“Hey, the Doman Adventurer's Guild takes 10% of all earnings!” Koharu cried as she swung from G'raha's arm.

“Wh—you little scamp! You didn't mention that when we signed up!” Foulques said, and chased her around uttering dire threats. Edda put a stop to it by pouring a potion directly on his head, making him sulk and Koharu shriek with laughter.

G'raha and I exchanged glances. “Lunch tomorrow on you?” I asked.

“Of course. I'm a man of my word! Though I suspect this was a bit more adventure than either of us had bargained for,” he replied.

“No kidding,” I said. “Let's go see what F'lahminn's cooked up for dinner, then. We can take these ragamuffins, too.”

“An excellent idea, my friend!” G'raha said, pleased with the conclusion of today's activities.

I glanced at the sky, where stars were just beginning to twinkle into view as the sun vanished beneath the curve of the earth. _Why me?_ I wondered. There was no answer, of course. Typical.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't mind me just erasing entire portions of ARR--


End file.
